


Part 1- What Was Once Lost

by Thorin2Oakenshield



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Angry Oswald, Angst, M/M, Pain, dead minions, hobo Ed, massage time, mild violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2020-03-13 15:33:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18943846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thorin2Oakenshield/pseuds/Thorin2Oakenshield
Summary: He looked down at his crumpled suit haphazardly buttoned up down his long torso. It was open at several places, a few buttons missing, exposing his undershirt beneath. At least he was dressed and not naked. It was then he felt cold, hard stone beneath his back. He was laying on some sort of stone table it seemed like. His hands felt the cool stone beneath him as a feeling of dread rose within his stomach when he realised it wasn't a table he was laying on.It was a sarcophagus."Really?A stone sarcophagus  now? This isnothappening to me."





	Part 1- What Was Once Lost

**Author's Note:**

> This is part 1 of a story involving the rekindled romance between Ed Nygma and Oswald Cobblepot during the early part of Season 5 of Gotham. Ed wakes up unable to remember killing Oswald's goons at City Hall due to his memory block. Oswald confronts Ed during the aftermath and Ed eventually succeeds in calming Oswald, which leads to him giving a massage to his old friend turning into something much more erotic.
> 
> Part 2 to come next!

A sharp intake of breath filled Edward Nygma's lungs as he gasped for breath pulling himself awake from the infinite blackness. The familiar feeling tugged at his insides as yet again he woke up unaware of where he was. A sharp light pierced his sleepy vision as he looked up through a window of Gotham's City Hall. It was morning and the familiar question hit him.

_Where the hell was he now?_

He looked down at his crumpled suit haphazardly buttoned up down his long torso. It was open at several places, a few buttons missing, exposing his undershirt beneath. At least he was dressed and not naked. It was then he felt cold, hard stone beneath his back. He was laying on some sort of stone table it seemed like. His hands felt the cool stone beneath him as a feeling of dread rose within his stomach when he realised it wasn't a table he was laying on.

_It was a sarcophagus._

" _Really?_ A stone sarcophagus now? This is _not_ happening to me."

Ed knew that his memory block had returned since he had no memory of entering City Hall nor sleeping on someone's grave. Pushing himself awake and sliding off the stone surface he yawned and rubbed his face, pushing his askew glasses up his nose. It was then that it hit him.

_There were dead men laying on the floor all around him._

"Oh God no-"

He gasped and noticed that tables were overturned and the place was completely trashed. A sick feeling rose up within him threatening to cause him to vomit but he held himself, retching a little. A smashed window lay in the corner of the room next to what looked like a weapons cabinet. Empty shells lay on the floor next to a few automatic machine guns. 

The room stank of death. 

Ed walked over to the shards of glass on the floor and stared down at one seeing his pale reflection looking back at him. 

" _Why? It was you, wasn't it? Why are you doing this to me!"_

Ed kicked a piece of glass in anger then froze when he heard footsteps approaching his position. Reaching instinctively inside his jacket pocket he found empty air where his handgun used to reside. Damn. He was unarmed and possibly facing his attackers or whoever resided here. The dead men on the floor was not a good sign and his eyes darted around the place to find somewhere to hide. Or should he face whoever it was? Was he a coward? Yes, he damn well was. The footsteps got closer and he could hear an uneven gait where the walker placed down his right foot. Possibly an injured man with a small stature judging by the way he walked. There was only one man Ed knew with that gait and stature....

"Oh fiddlesticks."

The image of Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot came hobbling into view. The way he walked was helped with the aid of a new leg brace attached to his shin but the awkward gait was still there. Oswald's expression changed from mildly irritated to outright shocked and filled with anger. He froze, looking around in outright dismay that his minions had been "disposed of" in a very haphazard way.

"What the _hell_ happened here?!"

Oswald spat, shooting spit everywhere as he struck out like an angered snake. His eyes were bulging and his hand instinctively reached for his small knife concealed within his leg brace. The blade shot out within his small hand, clutched tightly as his gaze fell on the only other man standing within the room.

Edward Nygma.

" _You!_ This- this was you, wasn't it! You killed my men and decided to finish the job and come for me!"

Oswald's eyes were pure venom.

Him and Ed's relationship had broken down over the past year or so due to the fact that Oswald had frozen Ed and stuck him inside the Iceberg Lounge as a trophy. That was after Ed had tried to murder Oswald at the end of Gotham pier after Oswald assassinated Isabella, Ed's girlfriend. All in all it was a very tragic state of affairs.

Ed stood still and thrust his hands up in a surrender gesture. He didn't feel like getting stabbed by the Penguin. Not today. Yet, how was he going to prove this wasn't him? He knew Oswald wouldn't take no as an answer. It seemed this might be the end for Ed Nygma this day unless he could convince Oswald that _he_ didn't do this. It was the Riddler. It had to be.

"Oswald- I didn't do this. I promise- look! I'm not even armed. How _could_ I murder all these men without a weapon?"

Ed let out a nervous laugh and swallowed hard. His heart was beating rapidly in his chest and he could feel a bead of sweat form underneath the bowler hat, which was perched on top of his unruly hair. His bangs partly covered his dark eyes, which were now wide awake.

Oswald bit the inside of his cheek as he often did when nervous or angered. His hand was still poised with the blade pointed towards Ed's lithe figure and his eyes were bulged and his blood was filled with anger. Yet, the man was a pathetic sight; unkempt, dishevelled and dirty. This wasn't the Ed Nygma that Oswald used to know. It was like the spark had been extinguished and it was just an empty shell of a man living within the bright green suit.

"You expect me to believe that? Why are _you_ the only one standing while my minions are laying on the floor drowning in their own blood, hm? Explain all this, Ed!"

Oswald wasn't taking any shit as he hobbled closer to his past friend, thrusting the knife forwards so that it was inches from Ed's throat. The blade tickled Ed's jugular and Oswald knew he could end the man right here right now. But, he didn't. That would be way too easy. Ed swallowed, feeling his Adam's Apple graze the blade which was threatening to tear a gash and cause him to bleed to death. Ed's eyes began to fill with water due to the close proximity of the blade and it was then something snapped deep within him, as he quickly stepped back and punched Oswald's hand, causing the blade to clatter to the floor. He then moved to get Oswald into a headlock, wrapping a strong arm around the man's neck, hearing him almost choke in protest.

"What the- hell are you doing!-"

"I'm trying to tell you that I _didn't_ do this, Oswald. Look. I am unarmed and don't even remember waking up in this hell hole! I've lost my memory and keep waking up in strange places, which is _very_ annoying I have to admit-"

Ed eventually felt Oswald struggle and could feel a kick to the shin immanent so allowed the shorter man to go free. It might have been a foolish move on his part but he knew he couldn't keep Oswald prisoner in his grasp for long. Oswald ripped himself away from Ed still furious and rubbing his throat where Ed had head locked him.

"H-How can I believe- you? I know you, Ed. But I also know the _other_ you. Him. The Riddler. Did he do this, hm? Kill all my men last night in a fit of rage? Now, I have _no_ minions left!"

Oswald turned away from Ed, unable to look at the man, as he frantically nibbled on his right forefinger nail. His bit the nail and spat out the small fragments to the floor. He was pissed but deep down he knew that Ed wasn't a murderer. Not an intentional murderer anyway. He was just an awkward nerd who enjoyed tormenting people with riddles. Maybe Ed _was_ telling the truth and he didn't do this. Perhaps it was a rival gang like the Lo Boyz or another biker gang. Gotham was a whole patchwork of villains and rival gangs right now and anyone of these could have ended his men. Perhaps it was a dig at his authority and a message sent by his enemies. All the thoughts swirled around in his mind until finally he turned back around to face Ed, sighing through his nose.

"Fine. Let's say I believe you for now but I will be watching you, Ed Nygma. Whoever did this _will_ be found and I'll rip their guts out and feed them to them."

Ed found it in himself to feel a small smile tug at the corner of his lips. That was the Oswald he knew. The man he had secretly admired and looked up to all that time ago when he was Mayor of Gotham. Those memories seemed so distant now, as Gotham lay in ruins with all bridges blown. No contact from the outside world. Just disorder, chaos and violence. Suddenly, Ed realised just how thirsty he was and ached for something to eat. How long had he been sleeping rough? Two weeks? A month? He didn't even know.

Oswald pursed his lips and moved to pick up his knife, snatching the blade from the floor and sheathing it back into his leg brace, careful to keep his gaze on Ed at all times. 

"So, where does that leave us now, hm? You look terrible. Are you sleeping in a dumpster every night because you smell, Ed. Really bad."

Ed felt a deep blush climb up his throat to cover his cheeks and the tips of his ears. He could feel Oswald's deep blue eyes almost penetrating through his clothes to peek at his naked body underneath. He was being judged by one of Gotham's most powerful crime lords. It was true though; he was a mess and a pathetic mess of unruly hair and crumpled clothing. His mind was a mess and he didn't even know what he did every night because someone was messing with him.

"Well, to be honest? I could murder a drink and something to eat. I mean- if it's not convenient I'll leave and get out of your hair-"

Oswald felt some of the anger slip from his face, as he looked upon his old friend. He pinched his nose and then glanced sideways to the room next to him. That was his private abode and room where he plotted, got drunk most nights and slept. His office.

"You know what? _What the hell!_ Fine. You want a drink? Something to eat? Then, help yourself, Ed Nygma. I need a damn drink right now too."

Ed licked his chapped lips and felt a little piece of hope rise up inside of him. So, it was true; Oswald wasn't going to kill him but instead offer him some help. The man still cared. He just hoped this wasn't some kind of ruse to lure him into Oswald's lair whilst the man plotted to kill him. Time had passed and that always led to distance being placed between the two men. Both men walked into Oswald's private room, as Ed settled himself down in a chair by the desk.

"Thank you, Oswald for not killing me and actually believing me-"

Oswald raised a hand up to signal Ed to stop talking. It was too early for this crap and his leg was giving him shooting pains right up to the top of his thigh. No thanks to Ed Nygma tackling him and trying to choke him.

"Please. I don't need to hear an apology, Ed. Just drink your drink and eat something before I change my mind."

Oswald went into the store cupboard, which was supplied by the good Mr. Penn and came back out with a tray of cold meat and salad. The whole city might be starving the desk, uncorked and poured into two glasses. Ed eagerly tucked into the food and then washed it down with a long gulp of whiskey. He nearly choked but maintained himself. Oswald snorted a little at Ed's almost animalistic behaviour, whilst leaning sitting down and leaning back in his comfy chair.

What a morning.

Oswald drank most of his own drink in one gulp and then slammed his glass down a little more violently than anticipated. Ed could sense the tension coming from the older man.

"Leg giving you trouble again?"

It was a bold move from Ed asking Oswald about his leg, considering the two were no longer employer and employee. That was a long time ago now. Also, Oswald's foul mood could be due to the fact that someone had murdered all of his goons in cold blood. Not a good day for Gotham's crime lord. He offered Ed a look that was one of irritation mixed with slight disbelief.

"As a matter of fact, yes. My leg is aching but that is none of your business, Ed Nygma. Don't act all friendly with me just because we're sharing a drink with each other. We're still enemies of sorts. This- is more of a gentleman's agreement, nothing more."

"Ah, of course. Forgive me, Oswald. I was just offering to give you a skilled massage to your leg and possibly your back, which looks rather bowed late-"

"Enough!"

Oswald shot daggers at Ed and filled his glass up once more and polishing off the contents, wincing slightly at the burn coursing down his gullet. His fingers were white and gripped around the glass tightly; his gaze not leaving the other man. To say Oswald was uptight right now was an understatement. Things hadn't been going so well in City Hall. Barbara Keane and her pathetic crew of morons had the Sirens' Club. _His club._ The Iceberg Lounge. Not only that, there were crews and villains surrounding his territory and threatening to destroy everything he built up. It was a constant battle and Oswald was getting very tired these days. How the hell was he supposed to be Gotham's top crime lord when these idiots were trying to ruin him! Another drink and Oswald began to calm down a little.

"This city has gone to the dogs since that _moron_ Jeremiah blew the bridges. How can I do my job as Gotham's crime lord when these fools keep ruining everything?"

Ed had an idea but he doubted if it was going to work. He desperately wanted to try and ease Oswald's pain by offering him a massage but it wasn't going to be easy. The man just didn't trust him and for good reason. He wasn't going to give up though. It was as if he _wanted_ to do this. There was some part of Ed that _ached_ to be with his past best friend, even if it were to share a few moments with him.

"A massage. Just one. Please, Oswald. It _will_ help you. Then, I'll leave you alone. I owe you for allowing me this."

Ed motioned to the food and drink in front of them and could see Oswald's gaze burning into him. Oswald leant back in his chair and tapped his fingertips onto his desk, as the idea flew around in his head before his lips actually decided to move. He decided that he was out of his mind. Completely.

"Fine. One massage. If you don't help my pain then I kill you. How does that sound?"

Ed smirked softly.

"You won't be disappointed."

...


End file.
